


First Blood

by CastielWinchester96



Series: Deaf!Sam Verse [27]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 12x09, Deaf, Deaf Character, Deaf Sam, Deaf Sam Winchester, Episode: s12e09 First Blood, Hurt Sam, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Protective Dean, Sastiel - Freeform, Tag to 12x09, first blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2018-12-04 20:26:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11562717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastielWinchester96/pseuds/CastielWinchester96
Summary: Two men dressed in army gear walked into the room and grabbed him by the arms, pulling him up from the bed and marching him out of the room.Sam squirmed to try and free himself of their grip, but it was no use, they were too strong.Entering into what appeared to be an interrogation room, there were numerous people already standing around as if they had expecting this scenario to play out the way it did.“Sit him down.”





	1. Screwed

**Author's Note:**

> " " - indicates speech  
> ' ' - indicates signing

“Six hours ago, Sam and Dean Winchester attempted to kill the President of the United States.”

“Huh. Do we know why?”

“They haven’t said a word since we picked them up.”

“Quiet types. Okay. What do we know about ‘em?”

“A lot. Brothers. Born in Lawrence, Kansas to Mary Winchester, deceased, and John Winchester, also deceased. FBI started investigating them back in 2007. Sam, the youngest, is profoundly deaf.”

“Hmm, uncommon but it does happen. It’s usually grooming.”

“The brother or the father?”

“Probably both, brainwashing from a young age. The kid wants to have a place in his own family so he tries to fit in, and in this case, it’s doing all this crap with his brother.”

“So what methods do you propose for him? This silence bullshit won’t affect him like it would Dean.”

“Don’t know yet.” Camp stood up from the desk. “That’s what’s so fun about this job.” He grinned before walking out the office.

* * *

He didn't know how long he had spent locked up, but it felt like an eternity. His missed his brother. He missed Cas. He missed Mom.

The door to the cell clunked open. Sat on the bed, back resting against the far wall in the corner, Sam jumped. Footsteps across the floor caused the flimsy metal bed frame to rattle.

Keeping his gaze on the floor, Sam refused to make eye contact with the agent who had entered. A few seconds later, a handful of his hair was fisted and pulled tight enough that his head was brought up to eye level with the agent.

“There, that’s better.” The agent grinned. “Now we can chat.”

Sam feigned ignorance.

“I know you can read lips, so how about you cut the crap?”

The youngest Winchester remained silent.

“I have ways of making you talk...” The agent stated, waiting a few seconds to see if Sam would answer before his chest huffed. “Fine. But just so you’re clear, you made me do this. You could have made life so much easier for yourself if you’d just started talking.” He released his hold on Sam’s hair before turning to another agent and issuing a command.

Two men dressed in army gear walked into the room and grabbed him by the arms, pulling him up from the bed and marching him out of the room.

Sam squirmed to try and free himself of their grip, but it was no use, they were too strong.

Entering into what appeared to be an interrogation room, there were numerous people already standing around as if they had expecting this scenario to play out the way it did.

“Sit him down.”

Shoved down, handcuffs were placed on Sam’s wrists while zip ties were used to hold his ankles to the legs of the metal chair.

A young man in a white lab coat approached, wheeling over a monitor. He grabbed Sam’s hand, forcing open his fist, before placing an oximeter on the end of his finger. He then clicked on the monitor, the display showing Sam’s heartrate.

“Here’s how this is gonna’ go.” The agent sat down opposite him across the table. “Between us, the things we do here, they're not always constitutional, but we get results, so no one bats at eyelid. We get the worst of the worst sent to us, and you and Dean, you’re Sesame Street level bad compared to some of the characters we’ve made talk over the years.” He leant forward. “So, how do we do it, you ask? Well, we have developed many techniques to make people talk, but the most effective is this.” The agent produced a syringe.

Sam’s eyes widened.

“This stuff is pretty nifty. It plays with your brain in a way that makes you forget who you are. You don’t know who you’re supposed to be, but all those juicy details locked up inside that head of yours, they just become trivial.” He grinned. “Imagine losing everything that makes you, you. Imagine how that must feel...”

“Please...” Sam spoke up, tone begging as he tried to stand up from the seat.

The two army guys immediately grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him back down.

“There’s that voice of yours!” The agent exclaimed with a smile. “And what do you know, you can lipread after all.”

“Please, don’t do this!”

The agent nodded to the doctor.

“No!...No!” Sam shouted, bucking desperately against those holding him.

The doctor approached with the syringe.

“Please! Please don’t do this! Please! Please!”

The needle stabbed into his neck. Sam winced as he felt the liquid being injected into him.

“Gahhhhh!”


	2. Lost

His body felt like it had been hit by a planet as everything began to come back to him. Lying on his back, Sam slowly cracked open an eye, staring up at the powdery pink pastel sky above him. Soft fluffy white clouds sailed gently past as he clenched a hand, fisting the sand beneath his fingertips as he did.

' _The beach?_ '

Sam furrowed an eyebrow.

His attempt to move one arm proved useless. On inspection, he found it to be bent at an unnatural angle, clearly broken. Using his other instead, he placed it against his ear, fingers gently inspecting what he couldn't see for himself.

Something warm and oozy was flowing from it, causing Sam's eyes to widen. As he retracted his hand, it hit against various pieces of electrics and plastic that were scattered beside his head.

' _What is happening?_ '

As he tried to get himself upright, Sam only managed a few centimetres before his whole body exploding in pain. He quickly flopped back down, breathing heavy in his chest.

Moving his non-broken arm, he placed his hand against his chest before slowly moving it downwards until he found a large wound on his side. Wide, from a large blade, and deep, it was bleeding sluggishly now, which Sam couldn't remember was a good thing or bad thing.

Sam tried to hold back whimpers as he struggled to imagine a scenario in which this ended well. Dean and Dad were nowhere to be seen.

What if they were...

' _No! No! They're not dead! They're not dead..._ '

Brain fuzzy, Sam tried to pull together any thought he could but found the task more of a challenge then he'd imagined.

' _Dad...Wait...Why does that sound wrong?_ '

The wound in his side began to throb causing Sam to cry out in pain. Whimpering, he screwed his eyes closed.

A hand landed on his cheek.

Sam gasped, jumping slightly. His side throbbed as a result.

Eyes flying open, it was Dean.

Younger Dean.

Of course Dean was young. They both were. Why would he not be?

"Sammy! Sammy!"

"D'n..." Sam whimpered, grabbing his brother's hand and squeezing it as the pain grew.

‘Where hurt?’

“Side. Knife. Arm broken.” He answered, before gritting his teeth together as Dean began to treat the wound, taking the bandana from his pocket and using it to try and staunch the flow.

“You just hold on for me, Sammy. Okay?”

Sam nodded.

“What year this?”

Dean furrowed an eyebrow.

“What?”

“Year this?”

“Sammy, are you okay?”

“Just...please...”

“1999, Sammy, did you hit your head or somethin’?”

Sam furrowed an eyebrow.

“I not know why I asked that. Why I ask that?” His eyes fell back to the sky above them. “The sky is pink.”

Dean once again looked confused. “Okay, now you’re really scaring me, dude. What do you think you’re seeing right now?”

“What happening to me?”

“Sammy, hang in there, okay?”

A shooting pain in his head has his gasping, screwing his eyes closed as his hands shoot up to claw at his temples.

Images began to flash before his eyes.

A tall, well-built footballer with a tight grip on Jess’ arm. Him not letting her go despite her objections and hits to his chest. One of her ex’s. Hearing the smack before the switch inside of him flips. The deadly switch that’s always been inside of him, festering and burning hot. An uncontrollable rage, a volcano ready to erupt. He crosses the room but Jess, now free from his hold, blocks his way. She’s crying but begging him nonetheless to just leave it. He looks over at the footballer who’s jeering with his friends. Almost proud of having ‘put the bitch in her place’. He wants to agree with her. To leave it alone. But then he sees the beginnings of what will be a heavy purple bruise on her cheekbone. And he sees red.

He ends up punching the douchebag footballer. Broke his jaw and arm, put him out for the rest of the season. That really made him a favourite on campus. Not.

The Cardinal’s ended up with a 1-10 record. News travels fast. ‘DEAF FREAK RUINS CARDINAL’S SEASON’. Jess made it her mission to collect every poster and sign she could. He guessed it was her way of dealing with the guilt. Guilt that she shouldn’t have in the first place. He punched the guy. He snapped his arm. She was innocent in the whole situation. She had been a victim herself. But she did it anyway.

No one ever bothered him or Jess again. Brady walked out from that party like he owned the entire campus. While he got tormented, Brady got street cred. Ex-roommate and best friend of the stick thin guy who took down a linebacker without breaking a sweat.

Was that what happened? Are you sure?

Why can’t he remember?

Why?

What’s happening?

The flaring pain stops.

He opens his eyes.

Now he’s just in pain, period.

He’s on the ground once again surrounded by drunk college students in the middle of the room. The footballer is standing over him. Everyone is freaking out in excitement.

He got taken down by Jess’ ex? Sucker punched? No... that’s not right.

Jess is kneeling down to the side of him, frantically shaking his arm.

“Sam, are you okay?!” She looks panicked, her body language that of pure fear. “I’m so sorry... I’m so sorry.” Tears are falling down her cheeks and the bruise is still there.

What was happening?

Had all that years of training failed him?

What was real?

Was any of this real or had he made it up?

“D’n...”

Jess’ eyes widened before she leaned close and placed her hands on his cheeks.

“I can call him, sweetie, okay? Let’s just get you out of here. Can you walk? Is anything broken?”

Suddenly he feels woozy. Black overwhelming his vision in seconds.

Jess starts to worry.

“Baby? Sam?! Sam?!”

And he’s falling through a haze.

“JESS!” He screams, desperationally. “NO! NOOO! NOOOOO!”

“Sam! Sam!” He hears, causing him to jump.

“Cas...” He whimpers. “What going on?”

He hits the ground hard, the wind being knocked out of him. Raising a hand to his lip, it’s bleeding.

His chin is suddenly gripped tight causing his eyes to widen in panic.

Meeting the gaze of the grip’s source, he almost begins to hyperventilate.

Lucifer.

“Hey, buddy.”

His words almost burn as they pass through his ears, only understandable through reading the archangel’s lips.

“Long time no spooning.”

He smacks away the devil’s hold and backs himself away until he hits something solid. Reaching a hand back, it’s an iron bar.

He’s caged.

“It not real. It not real. It not real.” He repeats over and over to himself.

“Oh it’s real. I’m real. All of this is real. And we’re just getting started.”

Lucifer grins maliciously, approaching menacingly with a purposeful lack of speed. Every step proving torturous as he tries to remain calm.

“D’n... help me.” He begs quietly.

“D’n’s not coming.” Lucifer smirks. “You died. Those men, they killed you, and your soul went straight down to my sandbox, and no one’s coming to get you out this time, Sammy.”

He begings to laugh.

A tear trickles down Sam’s cheek as he pulls his knees up to his chest in the corner of the cage, burying his head against them.

He awaits Lucifer’s first move. The anticipation of pain sending him into near panic.

And then there was the sound of gunshots.

Sam’s eyes widen as he looks up slowly.

It's Cas.

“Come on!” He screams.

Lucifer was shouting now too.

He scrambles up from the ground and sprints over to the angel, taking him by the hand and holding on tight.

“I’ve got you.” Cas reassures before closing his eyes.

Suddenly, there's light, and then...

Dean.

His older brother is knelt in front of the chair he was being held in with an expression of terror. Cas is next to him, their hands still holding each other’s.

“D’n? Cas?”

“I’m here, Sammy.”

Sam releases Cas’ hand and throws himself at his brother.

Dean collects him in his arms.

‘It okay, it okay’

Sam's crying now as he pulls away.

‘I miss you so much’

“Same here, kiddo.” Dean pats him on the shoulder looking emotional himself.

Sam turned to Cas, smiling softly.

“Thank you.”

He goes to stand up, the angel’s hands immediately moving to assist him. Once upright, Sam presses a long kiss to Cas’ lips.

“I thought I may not ever see you again.”

“I wasn’t going to let that happen.”

“How you find us?” He asks.

Cas glanced at the bodies of various agents and security guards scattered on the floor.

“I had methods, methods I’m not proud of.” The angel admits.

“You had to do what you had to do, Cas. It was an impossible situation.” Dean adds.

Sam nods.

“I uhh, I healed the hallucinogenic from your bloodstream, you shouldn’t feel its effect anymore.”

“Thanks, Cas.”

Cas nods.

“Let’s blow this popsicle stand.” Dean announces. “Did you bring my car?”

The angel smiles, fishing the Impala keys out of his pocket.

“Of course.”

He throws them to Dean.

Dean grins.

“Oh, baby, I’ve missed you.” He presses a kiss to the keys before heading for the door.

Sam reaches out his hand, interlinking his fingers with Cas’.

“Six weeks, two days, and ten hours... That’s how long you’ve been gone.” The angel states. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t get you both out sooner. I...”

‘Cas’ Sam silences. ‘It okay’

Cas sighs.

“I let you down.”

He shakes his head.

“No you did not. You the reason we free. That what matters.”

Sam smiles.

Cas smiles too.

“Let’s get out here.”

He offers a squeeze to the angel’s hand before leading him out the facility, forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm definitely going to write another verse entry about Sam getting into the fight with Jess' ex so watch out for that :)


End file.
